


Be That Someone

by inkcode007



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Marvel Universe, Romance, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:49:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24706360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkcode007/pseuds/inkcode007
Summary: Peter Parker/Reader fic. Peter's mission doesn't go well, and he's left to deal with a lot of pain and a sense of inadequacy. Reader is there for him to remind him of how great a hero he is. A bit AU because Peter is older here.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	Be That Someone

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Spider-Man or anything related to it, of course. All rights go to their respective owners. A little bit AU because Spidey is older, he's engaged to Reader so, I dunno, 25ish? 
> 
> Love,  
> Caspian ❤️

I huffed as the keys slipped through my fingers in a lazy attempt of unlocking the door with one hand. My dad did always say that laziness cost twice as much work. I groaned and leaned my forehead against the cool steel door of our apartment. The door knob did its usual creaking noise once I turned it, and I stumbled into the dark and quiet room. My little brown messenger bag slipped from my shoulders and landed on the floor in an ungraceful heap. I shrugged off my black leather jacket and winced at the sudden pinch in my shoulder. It was the reminder of a particularly vicious take down on the mat from earlier this morning. I think Kate was having a bad day, and unfortunately, I was her therapy. Despite the dull pain, I chuckled - Kate was going to get it next week. At the moment, however, the soreness and bruises across my body could use a nice long hot shower. 

I dragged my tired feet across the wooden floor, meandering in darkness towards the room at the back of our humble and cozy apartment. It smelled like vanilla and lavender, a strong note of pine lingering in the air since Peter moved in. It was a nice addition that reminded me this was  _ our _ home now. I stood in front of the door to the room and heard the gentle pitter patter of water falling,  _ weird. I didn’t leave the water on this morning?  _ I opened the door to the bedroom, the hinges squeaking in protest. A chilly wind swept into the room as I stepped inside.  _ I definitely did not leave the window open,  _ I thought. I walked over to close it, and once the howling of the wind was silenced, I heard the shower running. That was strange; Peter was usually out later when he was on Spidey Duty. 

“Pete love, are you home?” no words replied, but the smallest sniffle rang out from underneath the bathroom door. There was a cloud of steam curling into the room. I shuffled over and slowly opened the bathroom door, peeking inside. My heart shattered and fell to the floor in pieces at the sight that greeted me. Peter was sitting in the shower, his knees tucked up to his chest where he hugged them to his bruised, cut up, and singed body. His hair was matted with soot, and judging by the overwhelming sense of smoke - it was from a fire. The water mixed the dirt with the salty tears running down his cheeks. It left a dark trail trickling over his jaw and down the taught muscles of his neck. Without thinking, I stepped into the shower, not caring how the water instantly drenched my clothes, and slid down the length of the wall to sit next to Peter. 

He turned his head to the side and looked at me: the usual twinkle in his chocolate brown eyes snuffed out. Instead of Peter’s warmth and joy, his eyes swirled with a storm of pain and regret. My breath caught somewhere in my throat and I clenched my jaw shut, my teeth grinding painfully. I didn’t say anything, didn’t ask him what was wrong. I just sighed and opened my arms, a small, broken smile forming on my lips. Peter shivered and launched himself into the embrace, the movement throwing me back a little, but I readjusted. He sat in the space between my knees and curled into himself painfully, burying his face in my neck. Violent waves wracked the man’s body as he cried, and I felt something deep inside agonize in sympathy with every broken gasp. I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him as close as possible, wanting to take that bone shaking pain away and make it my own so that he wouldn’t have to bear it. I rubbed calming circles on his back with one hand and tangled the other in his messy hair, cradling him gently. It may have only been a few minutes of hearing the heartbreaking song, but it felt like an eternity. Eventually Peter’s sobs calmed, his muscles relenting in their fierce twitching. I placed a kiss to his head, feeling my tears sliding off the tip of my nose. 

“I- I couldn’t save them… I tried but -” his voice was tiny, weak, and uncertain. The whisper fell from his lips in chopped breaths as his chest heaved. I shook my head and pulled away slightly, delicately guiding Peter’s chin up so he would look at me. I didn’t know what he was referring to, but I knew his heart. I knew the goodness and selflessness, the deep caring and love for people he carried within himself every day. I knew Peter was a hero, not because of what he could do, but because of how he loved and protected others - completely and relentlessly. 

“I know you did Pete. You always give everything you can. Would you like to talk about it?” Peter fluttered his eyes open, now swollen and pink from crying. He searched my own, and I smiled at him, warm and caring, inviting him to share but not asking him to go further than he wanted to. With my thumbs I wiped away the black trails of soot from his cheeks and pushed back the wet curls from his eyes. They were so full of hurt my stomach lurched and something heavy settled in my chest, suffocating and overwhelming, like part of me was being torn to shreds. 

“There… there was a fire. I got most of them out in time but,” Peter closed his eyes and whimpered. “..but there was a family on the top floor. The fire had already caused so much damage to the building and I just - I couldn’t get them all. I got - I got the two kids, swung them down to the firefighters, but when I went back for the parents…” Peter trailed off. His voice faltered, and his shoulders slumped as he gasped for breath. I grabbed one of Peter’s hands and placed a tender kiss to his bruised knuckles, then placed his hand over my heart. The strong steady rhythm grounded Peter, and I could see the panic in his eyes starting to dissipate, the choppy breathing slowly evening out. This was our dance. I did my best to keep him grounded and he always lifted me up when everything felt too heavy. I would crumble and he would gently help me up with his kindness, his strength, his patience and comforting love. When Peter fell, I’d catch him. I would do anything to shoulder any burden or pain with the understanding, warm, and selfless love he deserved and I’d spend a lifetime trying to give him. That was how we loved each other - in a perfect balance, in a song of harmony only we knew, a tune that only sang in our hearts, a truth only we could understand. 

“I’m sorry, love. I’m so so sorry,” I leaned my forehead against Peter’s, mindful not to press against the injuries there, and breathed quietly for a few heavy seconds. Peter sniffled. 

“I just wish I had been faster. Maybe if I had just been better if I-” I inched forward, closing the sliver of empty space between us, and softly pressed a kiss to the superheroes swollen lips. Peter sighed. 

“Don’t do that Pete. Don’t say you weren’t enough. You, Peter Parker, are always enough. You’re incredible. You give everything to help people, to protect them - to save them. Sometimes… sometimes even the strongest heroes, the most noble and brave ones, can’t save everyone. I can’t imagine how that hurts, I don’t know how to understand it, but I do know this - you did everything in your power to help those people. You are good, Peter, and  _ more _ than  _ good enough _ . You’re kind, sweet, strong, and you care  _ so much  _ it amazes me everyday. That goodness in your heart, that courage - it saved those children. It gave them a future. It gave them a chance at life. You did everything you could, my sweet love, and that - your bravery and kindness - that makes you a hero. You’ll always be my hero,” there were tears running down my cheeks, but I never stopped looking at Peter. I never pulled away from those rich brown eyes that held so much love and compassion. Peter let out a shaky breath and nodded, leaning in slightly. It was a delicate kiss, the most subtle ghost of an intimate touch, yet it charged the air around us with powerful electricity. A touch so small, yet it created a world of its own, one where it was just two hearts, two people with cracks and faults, and perfectly beautiful to one another. Two stories so entangled in one another they created something entirely new - something filled of unbreakable hope, trust, respect, and love. It was a secret passed through the tender dance of lips, of words unspoken, of truths left in silence. Two of the same. 

“I love you,” Peter whispered against my lips, his voice gentle and sweet. I smiled and chuckled quietly, giving a few quick kisses to the grin forming on his face. 

“I know. And I love you. Now come on. Finish up here and I’ll make you some of that hot chocolate you love so much, yeah?” Peter’s eyes lit up once again, that trademark playfulness starting to peek through the stormy clouds. I got out of the shower, dropping the pile of wet clothes inside a towel to throw in the dryer. Peter blushed and averted his gazes politely, playing with his fingers. I shook my head and laughed and he huffed and pouted adorably. 

“With the little marshmallows?” he asked in a cute little voice, his eyes still glued to his hands. 

“Well, I mean, obviously, there is no other way to drink hot chocolate, love,” and with that I sauntered out of the bathroom to change into some dry clothes, but I heard Peter’s little embarrassed whine before closing the door. A few minutes later we were curled up in bed, sleepy and warm from the sugary goodness of chocolate and marshmallows. I was half asleep when I felt Peter shift, his head dropping on my chest and his ear pressed to my heart. Peter threw a leg over my waist, and nuzzled as far into my side as he could. My lips curled into a lazy smile, one arm wrapping around the strong shoulders, and the other gently running my fingers through soft brown curls. Peter sighed happily, his breathing starting to deepen. 

“G’ night,” he mumbled into my shirt. 

“Good night, Peter,” I fell asleep holding the hero close to my chest, his steady heartbeat lulling me into pleasant dreams. Spider-Man spent everyday holding the world upon his shoulders. Sometimes Peter Parker needed someone to hold him, and I whispered a prayer of gratitude to the universe for letting me be that someone. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, kudos, and ideas for Spidey/Reader one-shots (credit will be given) welcomed!


End file.
